Promises
by Jasket
Summary: Three times she kept her promise, and the one time she didn't.


_**Three times she kept her promise, and the one time she didn't.**_

_**Rated T for mild language and future situations.**_

_**This is an OC story. If you're not a fan of original characters, I don't suggest that you continue past this point.**_

**...**

**Avalon's an old OC of mine from CatKkit's OC story **_**The Kids of the DWMA**_**, and I felt like using her myself. Her meister in CatKkit's story belonged to somebody else and therefore I can't use him, so I decided to make her a new meister for this story. Behold the debut of my newest brainchild, Lionel Roberts! **

**For the record, I do suggest reading **_**Kids of the DWMA**_**, because it's 40 chapters of pure awesome.**

**Hopefully, I'll finish this, yeah? Let's get started!**

**...**

i.

**...**

"Why didn't you tell me your birthday is today?!" she exclaimed, standing up from the table with fury shining in her emerald eyes. Her name was Avalon Nightrhode, age thirteen, and she had been Lionel Roberts' weapon partner for what would soon be three months. The dual-ended scythe looked ready to kill as she glared her meister down over his oatmeal.

"Because," he replied, adding a liberal dose of cinnamon to his breakfast. "It's not important." He honestly thought she was being over dramatic - it was just another day in the year. Unimportant, and he doubted she would've ever found out if not for the cursed card his brother sent.

Avalon growled in frustration, glaring at her sandy-haired meister. "It _is _important, sir moron. You're only born once, y'know? How am I supposed to do anything for you on such short notice, Lionel?" She plopped back in her chair, crossing her arms as she shot him daggers through a curtain of forest green hair.

He gave her a pointed look, shoveling a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth. "You don't have to do anything for me, Avalon."

"Of course I do! I'm your friend, aren't I? Friends give friends birthday presents!"

Lionel didn't answer her, instead locking his dark eyes on her as he ate and she mumbled incoherently to herself. He'd certainly partnered himself to an odd one, hadn't he? At the Weapon and Meister convention, he'd been so focused on finding the weapon he wanted, a scythe, that he'd barely thought about personality when he'd found one and they proved able to resonate. Not that Lionel specifically disliked his weapon, of course not, but Avalon's fiery nature certainly was a great difference from his overly calm, highly logical demeanor. Her insistence upon the importance of such trivial things, from art to movies to birthdays, left him extremely perplexed at times. The young meister was startled from his silent musings by the sound of his weapon's fist banging on the table, sending the breakfast dishes clattering.

"I've got it!" she exclaimed, triumph written across her features. "I'll bake you a cake!"

Lionel fixed his partner with another deadpan stare, mind drifting to the disgustingly sweet, dried-out monstrosities of pastry that his brother used to bring home on past occasions from the local supermarket's bakery. Cake was gross. He voiced this opinion, and she stared at him incredulously.

"How on _earth_," the green haired weapon began, eyebrows furrowed. "Does Lionel Roberts, world renown fanboy of all things sweet, think that cake is gross?" She stood up and lightly knocked on his temple with her knuckle. "Everything alright up there? You feeling okay?"

Lionel gave her a blank look as he replied. "I've had it and I just don't like it, okay? My brother used to bring it home all the time."

She frowned deeply at him, putting her hands on her hips. "He must have been bringing home crappy cake then." With sudden conviction, Avalon hopped up onto her chair and pointed down at him, fire in her emerald eyes. "Lionel Roberts, as your loyal weapon and friend, I, Avalon Nightrhode, swear that I am going to make you the best birthday cake in the history of birthday cakes!"

Not giving her meister time to object to her sudden proclamation, the boisterous weapon jumped down from her chair and was out the front door of their shared apartment in a flash, already making a mental list of what she would need to conquer her new quest. Lionel was left staring incredulously at the chair she had just occupied.

Seriously, he _had _picked an odd one.

.

She was back an hour and a half later, arms loaded with grocery bags. The first order of business when she got home was to unceremoniously kick him out of the kitchen, with a promise to hide his math workbooks again if he even thought about peeking in before she said he could. Remembering how long it had taken him to locate his favorite past time the last time Avalon had hidden them and wary of the frankly scary gleam in his partner's eye as she unpacked the groceries, Lionel quickly made himself scarce. The sandy haired meister found peace in his room, reading a book on astrophysics. Every so often he heard scattered curses and obscure threats, along with the occasional alarming bang from down the hall, but at least he didn't smell smoke or hear hollered calls for an ambulance.

He left the apartment to grab lunch at noon, deciding to go out rather than brave Avalon's wrath in the young meister grabbed his wallet and phone off the dresser, taking the fire escape to exit the building.

An hour later, he was walking out of the local McDeath's, a McGrim burger in his belly and a mango smoothie in hand for his partner. It was a lovely day outside, the smiling sun shining brightly down upon the world. Lionel was just considering a leisurely stroll through the park before heading home when his phone started furiously vibrating in his pocket. The boy glanced curiously down at the device before fishing it out and answering it.

"Hello?"

"Where the hell are you?!" The fourteen year old winced and held the phone away from his ear as Avalon yelled through the receiver.

"Outside of McDeath's. I was hungry and you told me to stay out of the kitchen."

He could picture her scowl as she replied, "Well, now I'm telling you to get your birthday boy ass to the kitchen! And you better not have filled yourself up on crappy burgers and greasy fries, got it?"

The meister sighed in submission and agreed, promising to be back shortly. He hung up and placed the phone back in his pocket. There goes any hopes for a pleasant walk. Really, he didn't exactly dislike his partner, but even after three months he was having a hard time adjusting to the scythe's forceful nature.

She was rude, mean, and downright manipulative at times, having no qualms about resorting to blackmail or threats to get what she wanted out of him. Threats that she made good on, as he had learned. The girl's brutally honest ways and lack of a filter could and would lead to her being verbally abusive, and don't even get him started on how long she took in the bathroom each morning. Sometimes, he wondered why he didn't just find a new partner.

But then there were moments like after their first mission together, where after collecting the kishin's soul she had made him stop so she could examine the deep cut the creature had made in his arm. Lionel still hadn't been able to forget that soft, worried look in his partner's eyes as she probed the wound with an uncharacteristic gentleness before binding it up. She'd done all the chores for the week after as his arm healed, insisting that he rest despite it not at all being a serious injury. Times like that left him confused on what to feel about his green-haired weapon, and that uncertainty was one of the main reasons he stayed with her.

Lionel stopped in front of their apartment's front door, searching his pockets for his key. Realizing he'd forgotten it, the meister knocked on the blue painted wood.

He'd barely finished knocking when the door was pulled open, a flustered Avalon standing in the archway. Her apron was coated in a thick layer of flour, and Lionel noted a smear of cake batter on her cheek. Her straight, forest colored hair was pulled into a messy top knot and her matching eyes seemed to soften in relief at the sight of him.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, grabbing his arm with a frosting covered hand. "Took you long enough, come on." The girl pulled him through the doorway, kicking it shut behind them as she shepherded them both down the hall into the kitchen. Something smelled good - the scent of cinnamon and fresh apples hanging heavily in the air. The kitchen appeared to have been freshly scrubbed down, with gleaming countertops and the sink empty of any dishes. The table had been set with a blue tablecloth, the good plates having been arranged neatly upon the polyester fabric. Avalon pushed Lionel towards one of the seats, taking the smoothie from him and setting it on the counter.

"Sit down and close your eyes," she ordered, and he obeyed. He felt her turn the lights off and heard the squeak of the oven door as she pulled it open. After a moment, he heard her walking to him and placing something down in the middle of the table. "Okay, now you can look."

Blinking as his eyes adjusted, Lionel's attention was quickly brought to the cake in front of him. Round and covered in white frosting, "Happy Birthday, Lionel" was written in careful red cursive. Fourteen lit candles winked at him from the circle they were placed in around the edges, with red icing roses decorating the bottom, complete with green ivy climbing up the sides.

"Hurry up and make a wish, before wax drips all over it," Avalon told him, crossing her arms over her chest anxiously. Blinking at the pretty cake below him, Lionel did as he was told, closing his eyes as he blew out the candles. He made no wish, having nothing he was particularly wishing for. Once he was done, Avalon flicked on the lights again and leaned over Lionel, carefully cutting a small slice from the cake and placing it on his plate.

The meister looked from the treat to his weapon, again all too aware of the memory of those disgusting bakery cakes of his brother's. They'd been pretty and smelled nice too, but had still been absolutely gross. Steeling himself, he grabbed his fork and took a bite, expecting an unethical assault on his tastebuds.

It never came.

The cake was sweet with the warmth of cinnamon and fresh tang of apple, moist and fluffy in the best of ways. After he swallowed, the taste lingered deliciously on his tongue, highlighted by the creamy vanilla frosting. Lionel's dark eyes widened in pleasant surprise as he stared down at the slice. It was great.

"Well?" Avalon asked, impatiently. "How is it?" She bit her lip, and he could've sworn she appeared almost nervous. He answered her by quickly devouring the piece of cake, savoring the flavor. Once he was finished, he looked to her.

"Best birthday cake in the history of birthday cakes."

She smiled at that, a genuine smile of relief as she sat across from him and pulled the pastry toward herself. "Awesome, now share, birthday boy!" The weapon cut herself a large slice and immediately dug in.

"Don't eat it all!" Lionel snapped, grinning despite himself as he reached forward to cut himself another piece.

Sure, she was an odd one, but he definitely could've done worse than picking Avalon Nightrhode as his weapon partner.

**...**

**Love it? Hate it? Review what you think, please! I'd love to know what people think of these two. **

**Plus, reviews make me feel like finishing.**

**See you soon!**

_**Liliumity**_


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